


Worth Fighting For

by gallifreyanlibertea



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Omega x Omega, Omegaverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 04:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12335943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyanlibertea/pseuds/gallifreyanlibertea
Summary: In which Arthur's an omega that likes other omegas, and Alfred's not good at keeping secrets.





	Worth Fighting For

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really old request that I guess I never put up here. "Can I ask for a relaxing walk in the beach at night fic?"

It was on Crescent beach where Arthur had first met Alfred Jones, a man who had instantly proven himself to be as chivalrous as he later, on numerous accounts, boasted to be. He was a man who, the first time Arthur had seen him, had brows drawn together in fury, an uncommon expression on the otherwise gentle giant.

“Hey, asshole, he’s not interested.”

Of course, back then, Arthur hadn’t been… well,  _out._  His mother had still put him up to numerous blind dates, with numerous alphas who got worse as their numbers progressed.

That one, in particular, had arms as wide around as Arthur’s middle, so naturally, Arthur had thanked every god of every religion when Alfred had stormed across the beach to confront Arthur’s ‘date’- an alpha who had snapped at Arthur for flinching at the hand he’d placed rather high up Arthur’s thigh.

“So how about you put that hand of yours back in your pocket and leave him alone?”

It was admirable, Arthur remembered thinking. Admirable how some well-built-  _and he was certainly well built_ \- alphas stood up for those omegas too weak-bodied to fight for themselves. Adorable, the way Alfred had grinned down at him after the alpha had left, jutting out a hand for Arthur to shake, “I’m Alfred, hi!”

“Arthur.” Arthur had said, and, “Thank you, I would’ve handled him if he wasn’t ten times my size.”

“I’ll bet.” A small chuckle. “Hey, you can thank me by letting me buy you a popsicle!”

And Arthur had winced because oh, he would really want to. He was sure Alfred was a great guy, who’d treat him like a pearl, who’d spoil him silly, an absolute darling, but-

“I’m sorry to be so forward but… I- I’m only, er, I only date omegas.”

Coming out to strangers was significantly easier because they weren’t his parents, they weren’t someone he’d have to see every day, and of course, he had been ready to hear something along the lines of- “Woah, that’s hot”, or “You need a strong alpha like me, who knows what you want!” He was used to it.

He was definitely not, however, used to the grin that followed, with Alfred pulling down the collar of his tee-shirt to reveal the small mark of an omega etched into his neck. “Well, what a coincidence! How about that popsicle?”

Arthur knew now that it was some sort of celestial gift.

It was a lottery he had won, a lottery that now walked next to him with features illuminated by the light of the moon, hand holding Arthur’s with the warm remnants of a kiss still tingling on Arthur’s knuckles from only seconds before.

“I’ve never seen a beach at night.” Arthur mused, watching as a small smile played on Alfred’s lips, the way it tended to do when he was looking at Arthur like he was doing now. Those lashes fluttered, framing adoring blue eyes. Arthur found himself turning pink. “It’s like a school after hours, or a, uh, completely-empty Walmart or something.”

Arthur blamed the salty-cool breeze for nudging him under Alfred’s arm. “It’s a bit nippy, isn’t it, Alfred?”

“You can see all the stars.”

Arthur glanced up. He wasn’t used to the sight of what seemed to be the entire galaxy smattered in the inky sky. Freckles of stars that dipped into the purple, frothing ocean. It kept his breath stuck in the middle of his throat, while Alfred simply gazed with lips parted, those twinkling stars seeming to reflect in his eyes.

“Gosh, it’d make my crappy day better if we could see them in the daytime.”  

“I can.” Arthur attempted, and Alfred looked down at him with brows arched high. “I see you.”

Alfred laughed. It was hushed, practically a giggle and Arthur felt a proud smile spread across his lips because he really could be sweet when he wanted to be.

When Alfred had come out to his parents and they’d taken it harder than anticipated- Arthur had cradled that sniffling head against his chest, comparing Alfred to every single beautiful thing he’d remembered off the top of his head, how his hair was spun gold, eyes as blue as the gloomy English skies, lips as appetizing as beans on toast, to which Alfred had smacked him with a wobbly smile.

Or coming home to find Alfred hard at work, lifting his weights like there was no tomorrow, to which, at the sight of those bare, tanned, slightly-defined muscles, Arthur had launched himself into some feverish tangent about Greek gods, something that he was sure had creeped Alfred out, only to find him grinning at the flattery.

Alfred really did feed off of the compliments, all the shameless doting. Arthur supposed it was fine because most people tended to be slightly concerned from receiving Arthur’s attention.

Ah, yes, attention. Arthur paid attention to a lot of things. In fact, he’d noticed the look in Alfred’s eyes when he’d dragged Arthur out of bed and into a car to get to this very beach. Crescent beach.

He’d noticed Alfred’s keen choice of pocketed shorts, he’d noticed his silence while he drove, when Arthur had insulted fast food restaurants everywhere- something Arthur had expected a juicy little squabble over, only to receive a knowing smile in response. He’d noticed the strange lull in Alfred’s movements- not one word throughout the walk,  _not one_ \- just the lazy movement of his thumb rubbing circles into Arthur’s shoulder, pressing his nose into the side of Arthur’s head, light, feathery kisses on Arthur’s temples.

But most importantly, he’d noticed a crumpled receipt for a ring shoved somewhere under Alfred’s pillow, only last week, and yes, he’d gasped. He’d tossed it into the trash, he’d acted like he’d seen a bug when Alfred asked him what was wrong, he’d pretended never to have seen it.

Which is why as Alfred paused in the middle of their walk and turned to face him, to tuck Arthur’s hair behind his ear, “Arthur-”

Before he’d even began to crook his knee, to reach his hand into his pocket, Arthur yelped out the answer- “Yes!”

A blink. “What?”

“Nothing, sorry, go on.”

Alfred frowned, just a bit, those eyebrows scrunching together. “Arthur.”

Busted. Arthur found himself digging his toe into the sand almost sheepishly.

“I saw the receipt for the ring last week, and you’re also really bad at hiding things.”

And Alfred grinned. He rolled his eyes, he flushed red, he did a thousand things at once and Arthur let those arms heave him off his feet, into a kiss, one not quite as bruising as Arthur had expected it to be.

Alfred’s lips were soft on his and Arthur tasted salt. It could’ve been the air, it could’ve been tears, hell, it could’ve easily been both and  _they were getting married_  so Arthur stopped thinking.

He stopped thinking about how Alfred’s family wouldn’t be at the wedding, how the matching rings on their fingers as they ate in public, walked in public, did  _anything_  in public, would draw those eyes. Those ugly, hateful eyes, who preached love for those with opposite Natures and opposite Natures alone. Those eyes for which Alfred wore patches on his mark, to conceal his omega scent, of which Arthur hated every second of.

But Alfred was holding him, and Alfred was kissing him, and  _Alfred was marrying him,_  and he chuckled in Arthur’s ear. “Let me put this ring on you.”

Arthur landed softly on his feet.

His feet sunk lightly into the sand and he watched as Alfred fumbled in his pocket, a slim, golden ring glinting in his palm as he brought his hand back out to toss a shy smile in Arthur’s direction, one that morphed into a slight wince.

“My parents are going to  _love_  this.”

“Oh, Alfred-”

“No, I’m not sad, baby,” Alfred said, and Arthur was back to that sunny day on the beach. Eating a popsicle under the shade of an umbrella, one that Arthur had bought to keep the sun from leaving him burnt crisp. He had watched as Alfred prattled on about his day, grinning, laughing, eyeing Arthur’s treat when Alfred was done with his.

He’d called him baby that first day they’d met. “Hey, you finishing that, baby?”

“You…  _Us_.” Alfred took Arthur by the hands, pressing a warm kiss into Arthur’s cold palms, and suddenly, Arthur didn’t find it so nippy. “We’re worth fighting for.”


End file.
